


spring days

by aeits



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, guess i will slowly build a tag, the other characters kinda just pop up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:04:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeits/pseuds/aeits
Summary: shinji discovers the meaning of spring in terushima.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tmntransformer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmntransformer/gifts).



> i wrote this bc apparently there are no other fics in the tag and i thought that was so hilarious. but pls enjoy, i loved writing it!
> 
> this is kind of a side story to my kyouhaba uni fic.

There comes a lovely warm day at the end of March. Warm enough for students to go without coats and sweaters but with the hint of a chill later in the evening. It’s the first indication that winter is letting up after three months of non-stop gelidity.

Shinji is ecstatic because that means spring and he loves spring. He could list a multitude of cliché reasons why. That nature’s regrowth happens gracefully. With new _everything_ sprouting about.

But really, he’s just sick and tired, both physically and mentally, of the boots and jackets and scarfs and being bundled up like an infant. He had practically hissed at the few snow days they got. As if the inhumane temperatures had a need for worse circumstances.

“Why does it feel like the hell setting on a thermostat?” Terushima asked one afternoon upon stopping by Shinji’s room. He was supposedly there for his charger but had somehow ended up sitting in Shinji’s lap. Not that any complaints were coming from either of them.

Shinji opened his mouth to retort that it wasn’t _that_ hot. “If the devil had a hangout spot,” his boyfriend sounded far too amused, “it would be right here.”

“Get out.”

Terushima had clutched Shinji with a squeal when he felt the hands playfully pushing him. “I’m kidding,” he replied, smiling slowly. Shinji’s hands paused in their act and he placed them right below Terushima’s ribs.

The other boy’s eyes lit up with mischief before he licked his lips, leaning in. “I get it now,” Shinji let an involuntary gasp escape at his closeness. “This was an elaborate plot you devised so I’d take my shirt off.”

His lack of denial served as encouragement to which Terushima duly responded. Shinji ensured the heat was on at all times that day and any day afterwards.

 

 

Shinji loves spring, and he isn’t the only one.

Futakuchi stops at random intervals for no other reason than to take in the warmth. They wait. Because they’re not in any kind of rush. Simply outside for the sake of being outside. It’s beautiful.

“Kenji,” Aone starts, a bit exasperated the third time Futakuchi stops. He doesn’t get further because he watches as Futakuchi lowers himself to a spot on the grass and peers up. His smile is unlike those he wears often. Gentle. Light.

There is something about the taller boy sitting, hand on Futakuchi’s knee, that is beautiful too.

Kyoutani sighs in content, Yahaba by his side. He wonders if Kyoutani knows how much Yahaba still looks when he isn’t paying attention. Wonders if Yahaba knows that Kyoutani continues stealing glances. Shinji figures his friends are beautiful in their own way.

“It’s beautiful,” Terushima whispers, echoing Shinji’s thoughts. His focus is trained on a bird rustling for twigs on the ground.

He surveys Terushima. Sleeves rolled up. Elbows keeping him balanced. “Yes,” he says and Terushima stares, “it is.”

 

 

Spring is in every part of Terushima. Ingrained well enough that the lines between the two blur and Shinji isn’t sure he could pick them apart. Isn’t sure he wants to.

He likes how spring presents itself in Terushima. Through bursting yellows and oranges and reds. Everything about him is vibrant - like he is competing with the sun and has no intention of losing.

Flowers are tucked behind his ear almost as soon as they bloom. The brightest ones. Most colourful ones. Anything that showcases Terushima’s mood. Anything that matches his overall look.

“Can I have your opinion?” Shinji doesn’t understand why his expertise is suddenly needed. Terushima produces a few flowers, a few pansies.

“What?” he asks when it becomes obvious Terushima has no question for him. He touches the delicate petals. “You want my opinion on these?”

Shinji has memories of helping his mother in her garden. Of planting pansies around the tree in their backyard. Of watching them bloom year after year. He holds a lot of affection for the small flowers.

“I think they’re pretty,” he says, picturing the garden his mother still tends. It has simply grown larger in the months Shinji has been away. “They’re my favourite.”

Terushima nods, splinting the bundle in his hand. He tucks one half behind his ear and Shinji automatically thinks the colour is stunning. But then again, any colour would be stunning on his boyfriend.

“Perfect,” Terushima reaches up and places the other half behind Shinji’s ear. The affection on Terushima’s face makes him blush. “I picked them for you.”

Walking through a flower garden is perhaps the most ideal date Terushima suggests. No - he watches Terushima squat for a better view. Snaps a picture of the moment he’s startled by several bees. Snaps another of Terushima falling on his ass.

Shinji knows this is definitely the most ideal date because it’s Terushima and it is spring. He sees the life in the other couples and families milling about. In their dazzling grins that leave him feeling unexpectedly airy.

They’re no comparison to Terushima however, none whatsoever. Shinji knows for a fact that once he’s seen Terushima and seen spring and seen how wonderful it all is, nothing else can compare.

 

 

 

When Terushima says _this is my season_ , a laugh on his lips, Shinji agrees wholeheartedly. Spring was created with him in mind because he thrives in the springtime. Pieces of it follow in his wake.

Shinji hears spring in the way Terushima and Futakuchi sing the lyrics of a cheesy love song. Trying and failing to get everyone else to join them. Kyoutani grumbles low enough that only Yahaba catches the words. Knowing him, it’s probably a threat about tossing the damn karaoke machine because where in the world did such an infernal device come from?

Shinji hears spring in the drop of Terushima’s microphone, the collective flinch at the feedback. He hears it in Yahaba giggling _Ken_ , holding Kyoutani back so he doesn’t give Terushima a concussion. Hears it in the ending notes as Futakuchi is finishing up with a flair. Aone is redder than Shinji’s ever seen him, and there is a bit of spring in his higher than usual voice.

Shinji hears spring repeatedly. Over and over. He can’t be with Terushima and _not_ hear it. Because he’s still talking about spring even when he isn’t. Telling them warm days mean great days.

Warm days mean spending what free time they do have not cooped up in the dorm building. They mean jokes shared under large trees shedding blossoms, over lunch by the stone benches, across tables in the library when they really ought to be doing homework.

But warm days are great days. The best days. Perhaps they don’t begin quite like that. Until they hear the sheer enthusiasm in Terushima’s voice. Until they hear spring in his voice.

Shinji wishes he could keep tangible copies of those days forever. Pocket them and press them between the pages of a book so he’d have the memories with him always. He’d possibly wear away the pages, having flipped through them countlessly.

Try as he may, he doesn’t fully capture moments. He severely regrets missing Yahaba’s expression in the split second where he saw Kyoutani for the first time. He truly wishes they had documentation of _that_.

Yet they are still great moments, the best moments. Terushima simply speaks their moments into being, overflowing glee and all.

 

 

The sky indicates rain and Shinji frowns. He is more than aware that spring and rainfall go hand in hand though he doesn’t necessarily like it. Spring showers mean nighttime chills; he isn’t a big fan.

Shinji considers sprinting to the dorm in a last-ditch effort but the clouds rule against that notion as soon as Terushima pushes the door of the arts building. He watches the small drizzle escalate into a full out torrent. They both step back, granting space to incoming students seeking shelter.

“I blame you for this,” Shinji sighs and flicks the light switches on in the abandoned lecture theatre they find. Terushima immediately sits atop the desk at the front of the room while Shinji pulls out the forgotten chair. Their backpacks form a tiny heap on the desk.

Kicking his legs like a child, Terushima adjusts himself before speaking. “And how is this my fault?”

A muffled roll of thunder gives him pause. “You asked me to follow you here.”

“True, but you agreed,” Terushima tips Shinji’s chin upwards and he shivers at the cold on his boyfriend’s fingertips. It makes sense that he’d be cold to touch because Terushima is nothing if not a reflection of spring. They move in tandem like a well practised routine.

The pitter-patter grows louder, stealing Terushima’s focus. He hops off the desk and presses his hands against the glass windows. “Have you ever felt spring rain?”

Shinji raises his eyebrows but Terushima isn’t looking his way. “Well, obviously when I’m running to get away fro-”

“No,” Terushima says with a shake of his head. “I mean have you ever _felt_ it?”

He can’t see how emphasis on the word changes the meaning and Terushima looks around when he doesn’t hear a reply. Terushima’s smile is crooked - Shinji feels he’s planning something stupid - but he agrees when the other boy pulls him out to the entrance of the building.

Without another word, Terushima lifts his hand. And despite his earlier reservations about chills and the cold, the rain is surprisingly very warm. “Okay, can we go ba- _Yuuji!_ ”

They’re both standing under the rain now. Shinji’s shirt has already stuck to his back. Lines of water trickle down his spine. “This,” Terushima releases Shinji and collects droplets in his palms. “This is what I meant.”

They leave puddles in the corridor. Are still soaking when the rain lets up and they’re able to leave. But Terushima looks so full of excitement, face turned skywards like he’s awaiting another bout of rain, Shinji doesn’t fault him because he feels the same.

 

 

In an alternate world, spring would be everyone’s preferred time of year. Cherry blossoms cover the pavement. There’s a vast array of food to try and even more festivals to attend.

Things aren’t quite that easy. Sometimes there are deadlines to meet, heartbreaks to get over. Loss. Anger. Grief. People’s energy changes just as the seasons do. Some good. Some bad.

So preoccupied is he with spring that Terushima forgets, or disregards, his allergies. It becomes a running joke whenever anyone is in the lounge and hears the sniffling before Terushima arrives. It becomes less funny when Terushima keeps his hallmates awake at night. They steadily invest in earplugs.

Shinji assumes the runny nose and watery eyes put a damper on his spirit but is always proven wrong each time Terushima shows up. A mix of freshly mowed grass and laundry detergent because he fell asleep outside again. Shinji doesn’t comprehend why he bothers.

He thinks it has to do with Terushima’s entire being changing alongside spring. Embracing it. Many times overpowering it. He thinks Terushima will one day be reborn as spring.

Terushima doesn’t notice how often he brings spring any place he steps into. It’s an unconscious act on his part. But Shinji notices rooms bathed in colours and happiness and so much spring, his breath catches. He wonders how no one else can see it.

“You’ve been outside all day,” Shinji holds Terushima in his arms. Crushed leaves decorate his bed. Somehow, Terushima has scattered leaves every day this week.

“It’s actually for class,” Terushima for once doesn’t sound stuffy and he continues flipping through his sketchpad. The illustrations on the pages are all incomplete, all different scenes. “I’m stuck. It’s like I have an idea of what I want it to look like and I put it on the page but… it never turns out right, you know?”

Shinji grabs Terushima’s hand, stopping him upon glimpsing a particular drawing. The view of the wisteria tree in the courtyard. The details are insufficient and it’s clear Terushima lost traction early in his efforts.

“I guess I can tell what you were hoping to do with this one,” Shinji touches the page where the trunk breaks away. “Though, I’m no artist.”

When Terushima shows them the finished product, his heart nearly bursts. It’s a hundred things he could imagine and probably a million that he couldn’t possibly imagine. Terushima stands anxiously insisting his work falls short. Aone assures him otherwise.

“What are you calling it?”

“Spring days.”

 

 

Shinji adds the taste on Terushima’s tongue to the reasons he looks forward to spring. His boyfriend’s current fixation is chewing cinnamon flavoured gum. He finds explanations for why his kisses come frequently but Terushima doesn’t need them since he’s enjoying the kisses as much as, if not more than, Shinji is.

Of course there is the chance that Terushima does it on purpose. He goes an entire week ordering one insufferable fruit smoothie after another. Lips sweet from the pastry he munched his way through.

Not like Shinji minds. It’s spring after all, and spring lives in Terushima. In his endless _you will not believe what happened while I was in design_. In his lax behaviour on a free day. In the way he brings up films just so Ennoshita will get riled.

Today, Terushima has a tulip behind his ear and Futakuchi has taken the liberty of placing a few petals in his hair. Terushima tries in vain to coax a few butterflies into fluttering closer.

Some people like spring. Shinji loves it. He thinks Terushima was not made for this season, but it is the weather, the sounds, the ambience of it that were made just for him.

It’s in these moments that Shinji realises spring is not only made for Terushima, but it _is_ him.

**Author's Note:**

> the truth is i didn't even ship them until i wrote the first fic. the characters were fillers until i had a 'what if' moment.
> 
> now i need all the tropes for this ship. i also still don't know what the ship name is.


End file.
